Public A New Order Rises - Diarchy Grand Declaration Ceremony

[Judah Dashiell]

Objectives 1 & 2 , Tags : Liin Terallo , OPEN

"I wouldn't say I'm that important enough to consider someone killing me a fool. Some blowback sure but enough for something to change? Not at all. Not as if I am the emperor of something."

Listening to Liin, he nodded along, finishing off his whisky. It seemed the Diarch had already met Director Terallo on more than one occasion. He found that interesting. Perhaps a biomolecule partnership? New Cov did have a stranglehold on the biomolecule market. Most companies and governments had to go through the company in order to purchase. Judah wasn't going to ask business details but assumed New Cov was going more than well for itself at this point.

"No I have not. Makai has and I've been filling in for him, so this will be my first time. To be honest, I was unaware they were brothers. Could be a slippery slope there. One trying to usurp power from the other. Could end in a bloodbath. Or I can be entirely wrong and everything will go just fine."

Finishing his whisky, the drink glass was placed on an empty passing tray.

"So I believe you will be correct. Two speeches then."

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Darth Malum of House Marr //:
//: Bastion //:
//: Obj 1 //:
//: Dress //:

For a brief moment, there was no one else in the room. As the man drew closer to her, she could hear his breathing from behind the mask, anticipating his answer to her question. His words drifted into her mind, catching her off guard with his tone and acknowledgment of the dress. He had never been so forward with her, but she often found glances or moments where he caught his breath. Still, there had never been a time he was forward like this, and Quinn was curious about what made him decide to be so at this particular time.

He began to step away from her, and a hand gently found its place on his chest as she stepped into his way. Her voice hushed, allowing the conversation to remain between them, "How dare you be so forward with me, Lord Marr." she scolded, a smile lingering on her face, showing that he was not in trouble for his words. The Princess leaned closer as her floral perfume lingered on his senses. A finger gently ran along the edge of the mask along his jawline until his vision was filled with only her face. The same gentle and confident smile he had grown to know of her spread on her face as she finally spoke the secret between them. "As long as I wear this dress or any others you grow fond of, your thirst will never be quenched." The Princess leaned away from him and allowed him to take the lead once more.

Despite his deadpan words, she had gained confidence in the dress - feeling like she belonged. "Your cousin? You have so many. Which one is this one?" She questioned, returning them both to the reality at hand. Quinn knew that somewhere in the galaxy, her godmother ( Srina Talon ) was beaming as her game of matchmaking was only working for the evening.

Looking at Malum, she nodded and gave the man a smug little smirk. "Let's quench your thirst, Lord Malum," Quinn nodded towards the bar area where she had seen several people begin to migrate. It seemed the pair had missed the early hour-passed drinks, so they were left to make an order. Which, in Quinn's mind, was a better situation for her. Sometimes, people pass the cheap wine and champagne and keep the tasteful varietals behind the bar.

One step towards the bar, Quinn felt something in the Force clutch her heart and squeeze. The tightness and discomfort made her rest her hand on her chest while she tried to catch her breath. Eyes wide as she began to assess the feeling, it was one she never thought she'd feel again. Fingers thumbed at the locket hanging from her neck once more. Had she unknowingly recalled them from the void? Looking around, she caught a glimpse of the woman, ( Amara Zambrano ) a face she had once seen and assumed she'd never see again. Her breath caught as she choked down the urge to call out to her. Had Vesta done it? Had she discovered and created a reality where they could finally be happy? Quinn stared, not caring about manners at this point. She continued to feel, searching for the connection they shared, but nothing returned - even the sudden feeling began to fade. This wasn't Vesta; this was someone else - someone who looked and, in moments, felt like the Shi'do.

Quinn felt her heart shatter again, and she stood there, searching for the comfort of Malum's arm. She needed something or someone to ground her again, and when she felt the warmth of his arm, she finally exhaled. Tears clung to her eyes, threatening to fall, but the Princess forbade them. "Sorry, let's get a drink." Quinn finally said as she gave the man's arm a squeeze.

 

[Amara Zambrano]

La Fama​

Maybe she should have expected things to have been this dull. Stuffy politics and manners aside, this really wasn't the crowd that would've made things more interesting for her by hanging near a bar. A few more people, some older and a few surprisingly younger, meandered by but didn't catch her eye by the time she turned back around to actually take the time to look at her drink for once. There was a little red there, some pink even, but its alluring floral quality was quickly losing her interest. "Hm?" She asked, realizing she hadn't heard the bartender's question when she glanced up to see the Rodian staring at her expectantly.

"Another one?"

She paused, eyes dropping down to the drink that she swirled around with a slight rotation of the glass between her fingers, before looking back up at them to answer. "No, I think I'm done." Amara said with a little shrug of her shoulders, her other hand reaching up to adjust the necklace she felt caught in a few strands of hair while she pushed the half-empty glass away. They took the glass and she stepped away, turning a little towards where she remembered hearing her cousin had headed towards, but a slightly warm and prickling feeling that climbed her neck caused her to turn away instead - distracted by a pair of eyes that seemed keen on staring her down. She raised an eyebrow, an habit of expression that she hadn't become quite self-aware enough to stop herself from doing without effort, but wasn't really concerned with offending the stranger as their own staring had gone on for far longer than was comfortable.

She felt her upper lip subtly curl as she shook her head and headed towards the direction Darth Carnifex had moved in, leaving Quinn Varanin and Darth Malum of House Marr to their own devices.

'Could've used any face, but you chose mine?'

Try as she might people staring at her like she was her younger sibling's second-coming was something she just couldn't get used to.

 

[Ivalyn Yvarro]

Bastion
​

Objective 1 & 2

Ivalyn's outfit was a blend of authority and elegance, tailored to command respect while showcasing her effortless sense of style. She wore a deep emerald-green coatdress, its structured shoulders and cinched waist giving it a modern, military-inspired silhouette. The fabric shimmered subtly, catching the light as she moved. Beneath the coatdress, black fitted trousers and heeled boots added practicality for the long walk, while silver embroidery along the cuffs and collar nodded to her heritage. A platinum brooch, shaped like a blooming rose encased in a circular frame—a symbol of resilience—was fastened near her heart, a quiet tribute to her grandmother's estate she sought to find. Her blonde hair was swept back into an intricate braid, accentuating her sharp features, while a pair of drop earrings, simple yet elegant, completed the look.

Ivalyn had dressed for the occasion, but her heart was set on more personal matters. After navigating the corridors of political pleasantries, her thoughts turned to the old estate. A remnant of her family's past during the Tenth Sith Empire's rule, it was said to be the only speck of green left on the ecumenopolis that was Bastion. The estate's gardens, long hidden and possibly neglected, called to her—a piece of history tethered to her grandmother and a reflection of the resilience she carried within herself.

The Blood Trail had been a quieter hyperspace route, affording her moments of reflection as she traveled with Merryn. The late arrival mattered little; her fashionably delayed entrance would ensure she commanded attention upon arrival. But as the grand celebration unfolded, Ivalyn's thoughts were already wandering to that estate, nestled somewhere amidst Bastion's metallic sprawl, a memory of life in a world of steel and shadow.

As she scanned the crowds she saw a familiar face in Judah Dashiell speaking with someone she didn't quite recognize but that was quite alright. Another cursory glance and she saw Lord Marr, she didn't recall him being terrible but the negotiations certainly left her with a rather unique impression of him. An Echani was near him Quinn Varanin but she knew little of the woman.

A faint but distinct crackle on comms, her earrings that night doubled for them. Ivalyn activated them through a fleur-de-lis bracelet she wore. "Kyría, préphi̱me ti gí. Eíchate dikío, to na vre̱theí to Stormvale eínai katholiká... efkolótero apó óti planárthike. Aftó eínai egkekrimenó gia ton Majóra, sosto?"

Ivalyn chose to spoke in Dosuunai for her response, in a low whisper. Her conversation covered by Merryn speaking to her or at least adding to the illusion. "To schédi̱o exousiodotíthike gia ton Majóra. Nái̱taí diskritó."

"Epivevaiothí̱ke, zíto i Táxi."

"Zíto i Táxi."

"Shall we?" Ivalyn offered Merryn a smile and her arm as the two proceeded further into the venue.

Liin Terallo | Darth Malum of House Marr ​

 

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 2 - BACKROOM POLITICS

---

CURRENT MISSION - Low Profiles, Lower Chances to Die
Immediate Goals -
1: DO NOT BE SEEN BY THE BUTCHER
1.1: IF YOU DO, DON'T DIE

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr

OPFOR - Darth Carnifex (but don't say it to his face)

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Gavin Vel || Naamino Zuukamano || Ova Ziss || Open Frequency

---

Ova Ziss, ever the professional, had the luxury that Trayze once had long ago - a nascent but negligible connection to the Force. When the Mandalorian, named Grenz arrived, Trayze shook the hand and reiterated his name - committing it to memory.

"Oh, jus' bein' the guy nobody likes-" Trayze elaborated, "Asset collection."

The Kiffar helped himself to the refreshments, though not with the same gusto as Grenz - demonstrating a restraint in appetite as well as basic table manners. Once he swallowed, he continued. "Jus' gettin my Yirt-Vev-Twenty-fives an' Isk-Eighty-Sevens, but since there was a party in th' area, figured Ah might as well put faces ta' names." Trayze concluded with an absentminded shrug.

Yirt-Vev 25 was something that Mr. Ziss would no doubt be aware of, being the president of an interstellar corporation - basic permission to investigate and extract overdue assets, but it was the latter offhand mention that may surprise him. Isk Eighty Seven referred to extradition of personnel for legal reasons, commonly in more tumultuous regions or polities in the Outer Rim allowing for lawmen or bounty hunters to freely, and legally, conduct their investigations with the full support of local law enforcement.

Now, which camp did this Kiffar fall under?

 

[Liin Terallo]

Objectives: 1&2

I am glad in some ways that I am no longer running New Cov. It takes me away from being on someone's kidnap or kill list. However, I am still running NCBC and am also the Director for N&Z's Laboratories. And with our work on biomolecules, our monopoly on biomolecules and their products; well that could lead to the potential of some risk to my life. But for the most part both myself and New Cov are completely unknown in the Galaxy. And with not being a part of the Force Wizard's wars, we are virtually ignored. At least we have enough interest in our biomolecules to keep business booming and our economy flourishing.

I have another small sip of my wine. Unlike Mister Dashiell, I choose to keep some of my drink available to toast the end of the speeches. It is bad luck to toast with an empty glass.

His assumptions on what the fate of the Diarch brothers could become is certainly thought provoking. Yet with no knowledge on how the two operate in conjunction, all that we may do is speculate. "I do hope that if there are to be two speeches, that they are both short and sweet, don't you?"

Not far away I can see Ova Ziss sitting at a table with his Mandalorian bodyguard and another that I had not seen before. It surprises me little that he is here. And perhaps I will see him later still at the private meeting to take place after the ceremony. The kind of leadership that he will form is still uncertain to me. I am only thankful that he is not on New Cov. I could only imagine what he would do there.

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Darth Caedes]

"Pride in another is not submission; it is the recognition that through their ascent, you ascend."
—Darth Caedes, ruminations...​

Outer Rim Territories
Bastion System
Main Stage
Tags— Elmindra Xitaar Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Carnifex

Darth Caedes descended the long staircase with the eerie, gliding grace of a shadow come to life, seeming almost to float. His robes, a black shimmer-silk adorned with gold-stitched embroidery in the likeness of Horuset's blazing sun, flowed around him like dark water, caught in the winds. Today, he wore an ageless face—strikingly handsome though unquestionably warped by the Dark Side's insidious touch. His grey skin bore a perfect smoothness, yet the faint hollows beneath high cheekbones and the glowing gold of his predator's eyes betrayed the vast corruption coursing through him, the taint of the Dark Side.

Even in the relative modesty of simple robes, Caedes exuded power. Granted, not in the form of brute intimidation, not by brandishing his presence in the Force as a bludgeon, but in a quietly confident, suffocating manner; hidden behind an unfazed stoicism. This was his stage as much as it was theirs. The Diarchy's rise was, in no small part, a testament to his careful cultivation. They were a burgeoning power on the galactic scale, one which showed every sign of becoming formidable—if nurtured correctly.

Early on, the Diarch brothers had displayed to Caedes their mutual possession of wisdom in the way each quickly supported the establishment of an Outer Rim Coalition; a coalition bolstering not only their Diarchy and Korriban, the Holy Worlds, but growing to incorporate the support of entities like Taeli Raaf and Lodd Grimmin 's Trade Federation, Tertius C. Nargath and his N&Z Corp., and many more. Today, as Diarchy loyalists gathered to venerate Reign and Rellik, Caedes allowed himself the indulgence of satisfaction. Behind him, Madrona A’Mia , the Lord Seer of Korriban, kept pace with him. She followed a half step behind, her deliberate deference an unspoken acknowledgment of the one who walked before her.

Caedes' descent ended with a murmuring applause from the crowds, and he came to rest beside the two brothers, Diarch Reign and Diarch Rellik . The King of Korriban tilted his head to each of them in turn, a subtle bow—a humble offering made from a position of strength. To Reign, he extended a hand, resting it against the Diarch's back in a gesture of familiarity. Despite its performative nature, for the benefit of the public, the gesture was nevertheless sincere in its warmth. He allowed the smallest trace of a smile to touch his lips, though his glowing eyes betrayed the pride he felt; for Caedes stood not merely as an ally, but as a King who had helped to nurture the Diarchy's rise, a claimant to the shared glory of their success and a quiet rebuke to the covetous Sith who now circled like jackals in the crowd.

 

[Detritus Ren]

Objective: Grand Ceremony
Tags: Open for interaction


Home.

Detritus Ren had finally come home to Bastion. Though not where he was born, he felt like it was a proper homecoming. Once Detritus Ren began as a young man known as Jin Kyrel. Already coming from an Imperial background Jin once traveled to Bastion on some damn foolish crusade to overthrow the Sith Empire. In those days Detritus was a different man, ambitious, idealistic and even naive. He had joined the ranks of the Imperial Knights and served an imperial ideal to rid the Sith from his home. He had fought against the Sith starfighters and destroyers above Bastion’s skies and later defended with a shield when the Sith attacked again. All of it side by side with his best friend Hans…

The Third Imperial Civil War as it was called. Now Detritus stood upon the stone he once walked, his body covered in orange and black robes, a helmet to hide his scarred face with only yellow eyes peering through the visor. Now Jin Kyrel had become Detritus Ren Shadow Priest. Instead of Fel ideology now he worshipped Neo-Imperialism praising the glorious vision under Palpatine. One of which the Master of Ren had intended to uphold again. The various voices and presences of the ceremony had finally snapped Detritus out of his reminiscence. “Hans… If only you could see it now.” He said as the memory of his dead friend left a clear impact on the zealotry imperial.

Detritus stood and watched with intrigue at the various faces, the presences he could sense emerging at this ‘opening ceremony.” Bastion now was in the hands of a rising power, one that he had faced on Muunilinst, now he had come to witness the foundations of these rabble. The Master of Ren kept a close eye upon it all. “World Eater, hear me and grant me strength. Cloak me in shadow and make me quiet as the dark.” Detritus uttered in a silent prayer.

The Diarchy as they called themselves seemed to be an enigma. Save for only one thing, the foundations stood upon imperial territories the Dark Empire saw as rightfully theirs. The Empire was slowly gaining momentum, with a grand design to bring back the strength and fear brought about by the Galactic Empire centuries ago, now the Diarchy stood as a new enemy that was on the path towards the Empire’s aggressive expansion in what it viewed as its conquest.

The Master of Ren listened closely, while his own dark presence would try to mingle with the others. He might have looked out of place, though he only hoped others wouldn’t notice. He stood in the middle, wading his way through the crowds, while his yellowed gaze scanned each face, both familiar and unfamiliar to him.

 

[Gavin Vel]

Objective 1
Tags: Naamino Zuukamano , Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik Darth Caedes

Gavin’s eyes darted warily around the room. The man he had pegged for a spy just moments earlier was now engrossed in hushed conversation with someone else, freeing Gavin from that particular worry. The relief was small, though—this entire gathering swarmed with individuals far more powerful and influential than he. In the grand scheme of the Diarchy’s political machine, Gavin felt like little more than an extra face.

He drew a steadying breath and flicked his gaze at Naami, who looked relatively calm. If the Zabrak was intimidated, he hid it well. Gavin, on the other hand, was far from comfortable; his posture betrayed a certain stiffness, the tension of a man who didn’t entirely trust himself not to do something rash.

“Come on,” he murmured to Naami, starting forward. “The longer we stay out here, the more likely I’ll embarrass Reign.” That fear nagged at him; displeasing Reign wasn’t an option. He couldn’t bear the idea of letting down the one mentor who seemed genuinely invested in his success.

As they threaded through groups of dignitaries, Gavin spoke quietly, his tone a mixture of awe and faint disbelief. “I can’t believe we’re allowed to attend something like this. It’s not like we’re big names. You’re only slightly less of a nobody than I am,” he teased. His playful jab had an undertone of sincerity, though—both of them still had so far to climb if they wanted to stand on equal footing with the lords and officials milling about.

Pausing near a small knot of people, Gavin’s gaze flicked over them. Something that looked like a minister, maybe a military commander—it was hard to tell with all the finery. All around, he saw figures in the shadows wearing insignia he didn’t recognize. In a lower voice, he added, “One day, it’ll be you and me, right? We’ll have our own apprentices trailing behind us at some fancy event, trying not to screw up and bring us shame. That’s gonna be a good day.”

They rounded a corner that opened into a more central area. Gavin ground to a halt so abruptly that Naami nearly bumped into him. His heart gave a jolt as he recognized a tall, robed figure with an unmistakable aura of power. “Holy shit, it’s the King of Korriban,” he whispered, stepping sideways so that he wasn’t directly in Darth Caedes’s line of sight just yet. A surge of adrenaline shot through him—he had never been in the same room as the King before. “Don’t make me look stupid,” he muttered under his breath to Naami while anxiously smoothing invisible wrinkles from his formal robes.

Summoning what he hoped resembled composure, Gavin approached the group. He found Lord Reign first, bowing respectfully and making sure not to fumble the gesture. “Master Reign,” he said, briefly meeting Reign’s gaze before turning to the second Diarch. “Diarch Rellick,” he greeted in kind, offering the same bow. His nerves twisted into a knot as he faced the final figure, the one whose mere title made Gavin’s pulse hammer in his throat.

“Uhhh, Darth Caedes... sire, sir,” he managed, and bowed again. The greeting came out awkward, and he cringed inwardly at how stiff it sounded. But at least he had said something. Now all he could do was hope that he wouldn’t make a further mess of this chance—one he never expected to get, and certainly couldn’t afford to squander.

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

Eventually, I decide to stop my recording. I suspect that everything is being broadcast live, and continuing to record is a waste of time. The few video clips I've managed to gather are enough to serve as a memory log I'd be better off enjoying the event as it unfolds.

I spot some familiar faces. Gavin, for instance I remember meeting him during a battle for the Emperor's vault. I think he was also present at the Battle of Ossuk.

There are also individuals whose strong aura and alignment with the dark side of the Force make them stand out unmistakably.

I glance toward Nyva. She's doing what I asked, blending into the crowd. It's time for me to change spots. Instead of mingling with the guests, I teleport with a burst of green smoke, disappearing entirely from my vantage point on the rooftop.

I reappear in the corridors of Bastion Academy. I make my way toward the High Council chamber. After showing my credentials, I'm allowed through and enter the small circular room that serves as our council chamber. I turn on the main holo-screen and tune it to the live broadcast of the event to enjoy it on the large display.

I then settle into one of the council chairs with my coffee thermos and decide to enjoy the event from this quiet, secluded spot. I'm not particularly in the mood to mingle with the crowd just yet. Perhaps I'll make a public appearance after the diarchs' speeches, greeting them more formally. In any case, my master knows I'm here; the rest doesn't concern me.

I rest my elbow on the armrest of the chair and prop my head on my hand, taking on a relaxed posture while sipping my coffee. I want to keep a clear head for now I'll drink later when it's time to celebrate.

In any case, my servant hasn't contacted me, which means everything is fine. I watch the live coverage of the event. They've gone all out everything is meticulously organized to the last detail. The council chamber patrols leave me alone, given that I belong to the Diarchy's Research and Development division. I'm free to enjoy my seat as I please, and that's exactly what I do.

I'm far more comfortable here than on the rooftop where I was earlier. Among the audience, I noticed a woman I'd rather not see here, but since we're on neutral ground, I have no reason to confront her, and she has none to confront me. We're not here for that. Still, I'll keep in the back of my mind that she's present.

 

[Darth Imperius]

GRAND CEREMONY
Objective 1​

Of all worlds, Bastion. It was a twice removed Imperial capital and that is what it looked like. He had resided here as Moff for the Empire, worked as an ally to the New Imperial Order to bring down the old Sith Empire and experienced the fall of the fools who still believed in that defiant ideal. Childishly so. It was pathetic to praise the old so much. If it deserved the praise, it would not be dead.

Now the Diarchy came, another version of Order concealing Darkness. The Force did not act out of benevolence and structure, it was Chaos, it was conflict. To seek the opposite, was to defy nature itself. But he had holdings here and on Taspir, it would be a loss to not attend this grand gala of this emerging galactic power. They were close enough to his Hegemony to pose a threat and therefore it had to be done.

He was dressed in a simple black suit with a hood and cape, it was as elegant as he would allow it to be while not losing any pragmatism. Reinforced with armor plates and Alchemy not so subtly weaved into its fabric and armor, it was the minimum of what the Heir felt to wear to a distant, neutral realm that was not an ally.

Darth Imperius arrival was neither accompanied by a delegation or protection detail and he simply entered the grand halls, his face covered in the same darkness as his presence. He moved calmly, almost too calm for the eye to catch. Shrouded in more than dark clothes, his black gaze wandered across the attendees, offering little more than presence-acknowledging nods before he arrived next to another observer.

"Lord Wrath." His measured voice with a deep resonant bass and gravelly undertones brought forward. "A diplomatic meeting seems a strange place for the Emperor's enforcer, unless it is to watch over his sheep."

Gerwald Lechner

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Bastion | Plaza outside the Crucible of Order
Tags: Darth Caedes Diarch Rellik Naamino Zuukamano Gavin Vel Madrona A’Mia Liin Terallo Judah Dashiell Darth Malum of House Marr Quinn Varanin Detritus Ren Antipater Darth Carnifex Darth Imperius Trayze Tesar Ova Ziss Amara Zambrano Ivalyn Yvarro Astride Velvet Gerwald Lechner Tertius C. Nargath Lyssara Thrynn Zara Saga Roman Vossari Kai'lyn

---

The Diarch greeted those who came his way, his manner regal and serious, the turnout was far greater than he had assumed, but he was ready, he had been going over his speech in his mind when the voice of one of his apprentices cut through his thoughts.

"Are you feeling well?"

Turning briefly behind, he locked eyes with Kai, touched by the young Togruta's concern.

"I am doing well enough, my young friend, just making sure I am ready. This is important"

Reign scanned the crowd as they milled about, clocking both Gavin and Naamino as they spoke, and stifling a small chuckle at Gavin's obvious discomfort with the attentions of the Diarchy's newest potential governor Ova Ziss. He saw his good friend Liin Terallo conversing with Makai's father and wondered if the younger Dashiell would be making an appearance.

He noted, with some surprise, that there were multiple Dark Councilors in attendance, Lord Malum and his guest making their way towards the refreshments, and a massive hulk of a man with strikingly similar features to himself, speaking with another Sith Lord that Reign had recently heard of.

It was then he felt it, a cold shiver of power, like touch the abyss itself. This gave the Diarch a moments pause, trying to place it. This was something he had never felt before, yet a power he knew he may have to contend with one day. Grim determination plastered his face as he tracked it through the halls of the Crucible. Nothing that could be done about it right now.

But, he was wrenched from his thoughts when he felt a familiar presence, Caedes had arrived. The Diarch could not help but smile as his friend made his way down the stairs and to the stage to join them, a place of honor by his side had been prepared. Returning the Kings slight bow, Reign paid his friend the respect he was due, and at the King's resting of his hand on Reign's back he whispered over

"I almost thought you weren't going to make it. Glad you are here though my friend"

Reign could not help but laugh as Gavin approached however, and it was good, lightening his mood. He could feel the Apprentice's apprehension at approaching Caedes. Nodding his head slightly as he was spoken too, Reign returned his focus forward.

The stage was set and it was time.

Taking the lead, the elder brother stepped forward. His vibrant green eyes scanning the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming, representatives from the Galactic Powers, friends of old, and friends perhaps yet made. And most of all, our fair citizens, my brothers and sisters. You are here to learn, to gauge who these upstarts in the Galactic North are. I will tell you, we are not the base desires and chaos of the Sith, nor are we the austere denial of self and false peace of the Jedi"

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in.
As he continued, his voice rang clear and confident.

"The Diarchy is not driven by the base hunger for conquest, nor the shallow vanity of domination. Our purpose is singular, unwavering: to forge order from the chaos that has long plagued this galaxy, a galaxy that has forgotten the very meaning of peace and security."

He locked eyes briefly with the Sith in attendance

"Consider the generations born in the crucible of endless conflict. The children whose first lullaby is the roar of blaster fire, whose first lesson is to cower and flee. The innumerable innocents whose lives are blighted, whose potential is stunted, by the selfish ambitions of those who view this galaxy as their personal playground of destruction. Their suffering is a testament to the failures of those in power!"
The Disgust and thinly veiled threat clear in his speech. His green eyes blazing as he looked out upon the crowd

His voice rising, the passion and conviction evident in his speech.
"The Diarchy will not tolerate this protracted agony. We will not permit the continuation of this abysmal state of affairs. Under our rule, stability will be the bedrock of galactic civilization. Families will find security in the strength of our authority. Children will be raised under skies untainted by the shadow of war, knowing only the promise of a future guided by our hand."

His voiced dropped low, the veil of the threat gone, and the pure declaration of his intent clear.
"Let all who perpetuate this endless conflict, those who profit from the death of the innocent, those who sit by in the name of "peace" while atrocities are performed galaxy wide heed this warning, We see you, and we are coming"

As he finished his speech to the applause of the Diarchy citizens in attendance, he stepped aside, making way for his brother.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Tags: Diarch Reign Darth Caedes @ - Open to everybody

To you, our Galaxy, our home.​

Rellik had been keen to the movements among the crowd. Under the pressure of staying formal he was still ever aware. His playful demeanor a guise that could be seen as arrogant or un-caring of the dangers around him. As Reign spoke to his Torguta pupil, Rellik thought upon the nature of the two of them.

The Diarchy is about shared talents and Reign's presence and nature lent towards negotiations. The more un-known of the two brothers had enjoyed keeping his aloof nature. It let him morph into any situation (Light or Dark) without much pre-conceived notions but that might all change after tonight. The air heavy with anticipation for the two of them to rise up and address the galaxy at large.

As the event continued people entered and mingled. Bankers tying their webs of finance ever deeper. Dark siders appearing in a subtle yet mischievous romantic play. Sith and Imperials alike coming to gauge the power of the Diarchs - Even the presence of a higher darkness could be felt by him. Another showing for Rellik that no matter how much individual power you held, there was always the chains of fear.

As he sipped his drink his pondering would need to cease. A friend had finally came up that the Diarch knew personally. - Rellik welcomed Caedes unto the platform with the same grace the King gave to them. An honor to see another person with a kin spirit. Still in thought and un-normal of his nature he stayed quiet. Speaking in gestures only for now.

Than Gavin approached, the honorable combatant of Ozzuk Thren with what appeared to be Naamino Reign that spoke about from Bescane in high regards. Rellik still silent nodded his head to both of them in return. The Diarch was not above treating anyone from the highest powers to the lowest civilians with the same grace they would bestow upon him.

- As Reigns speech commenced and he spoke of children born into the harsh reality of our worlds, Rellik could not help but look at his Nieces - Nightmare and Shadow. He would flay the force from the galaxy itself if it meant keeping them safe, his brothers words resonating with him deeply. Was the cost ever too high for those we truly cared about. If our goals are just do the means matter.

It was now his time to speak. Taking in the site of all those in attendance he remembered the purpose of the Diarchy. Stepping in to be side by side with his brother. Using the force to amplify his voice to all.

"There are those who will see us as false; distrusting in our power or goals. In these moments ask yourself what comfort has your dogma provided? Has your strength protected you, or your kind heart kept the evil at bay. Does your wealth or status keep you untouchable in the eyes of your enemies?

A pause to let the people think upon themselves, but not long enough for them to grow in anger or idealism.

Light breeds Darkness and Darkness gives way to the light. Here we do not limit you to either. The Diarchy is freedom. Here you may embrace yourself for who you are, not who you were told to be. For the whill of the force has set you upon this path.

The willpower to care for your loved ones and the strength to destroy those who would threaten them. Non should be ashamed of the path they take to secure their destiny. The force flows through you, guiding you. You have but walked the road. Were you not once a child thrust into this pre-existing conflict?

This chaos is held within a fraction of reality. Beyond these stars exist other galaxies, other worlds, other beings. Explorers, military personnel and those highly attuned to the force have traversed these places. If we can end the familial bloodshed and create order we could search these places together as the strongest force the universe has ever known!

Our order is one built upon our bonds. We celebrate them and we celebrate you. For each being within this galaxy is unique and put here for a purpose. - Money, lust, power and love. By our love, our strength, our means this gargantuan task is undertaken with not just the Diarchs but all of you! By our bonds together.

We ask nothing but your loyalty for we shall give you all of ours in return.

We do not wish to strike you down in vein glory. We wish to rise with you. Cousins, brothers, sisters - among the stars, enjoy yourselves for once. Dance, sing and party. For tonight, you are with the Diarch's!"

Rellik would hold his head high. Looking out to the crowd as he slightly turned his shoulder so him and his brother were leaning partially on each other. The two Diarchs would lift their touching arms into the air with their new lightsabers. Constructed under the principles they now hold. An Orange blade for Reign representing creativity, independence, and a maverick spirit of someone who has carved a new path. Relliks blade was Gold to show his philosophies that differ from the traditional teachings and his unique perspective on the galaxy as a whole.

The sound of music would begin and the two would turn to place their sabers upon a ceremonial pillar on the lifted platform. Showing they did not have need of them tonight beyond their symbolism. The two brothers would descend to the adoring applause of Diarchy citizens and to stand among friend and foe in full.

 

[Astride Velvet]

Oh? So that's it? Their intention is now very clear to me. Before, it was a bit hazy, but this speech has swept away all my doubts that I was right in imagining some sort of multidirectional tentacles.

At the end of the speech, I can't help but raise my glass and applaud, then head toward the VIP area to get closer to the other distinguished guests and the Diarchs themselves.

My steps are surprisingly heavy wait? What did they just say? They're going to arrive in the galaxy? They've positioned themselves on a neutral path? Hm… I didn't really expect that. I take a sip of my alcoholic drink, and before I know it, I'm in the midst of the festivities in space.

The birth of a new empire or its fall remains to be seen if the Diarchy has the shoulders to carry its promises. Otherwise, I imagine the other alliances won't hesitate to remind them of their perspectives on all this.

It's being broadcast everywhere, so there's no turning back now. In this looming conflict, I have no idea what role I'm going to play. All I want is to live in peace on Valskar not be caught up in a large-scale galactic conflict. But it seems I won't have a choice.

This speech leaves me perplexed, and we'll have to be careful how we interpret it. It seems like a grey figure has emerged. Honestly, I wouldn't have minded plundering other planets myself. I am a Dark Lord, after all.

I lean against a wall, this revelation hitting like a bombshell. I down my glass in one gulp and grab another to help digest all of this.

The people around me, in the global crowd, are all abuzz. They're cheering, chanting the names of the two Diarchs, or shouting:

"Long live the Diarchy!"

The crowd is going wild. We're reaching the climax of the celebration. I'm still unsure how to approach all this I think I'll directly ask one of them when I get the chance.

"Good speech, good work."

Diarch Rellik Diarch Reign

 

[Marlon Sularen]

A_N E W_O R D E R_R I S E S
Objective I : The Grand Ceremony

DARK EMPIRE
BASTION, OUTER NEW TERRITORIES

As the room filled with thunderous applauses and cheering, a single man emerged from the crowd to face the two self-proclaimed Diarchs. Dressed in a traditional crimson red Imperial Uniform marked by a unique Insignia plaque and gold epaulettes with an elegant red cape attached to it, the Warlord of the Empire, Marlon Sularen stood out amongst the crowd eager to challenge the rhetoric of the Diarchy and dismantle them infront of the entire galaxy. As he stood in front of the platform which the Diarchs stood upon, the Imperial Warlord would speak up to gain their attention. "Such bold rhetoric, such bold promises, for a group of upstarts that have nothing to show for it." Sularen began.

"I have heard this rhetoric paraded around by others like you two, with false promises of peace and security, of a better future without conflict and suffering. Always presenting themselves with an absurd amount of self-righteousness and arrogance, that only they can end the cycle of violence, that only they can fix the problems of the galaxy, that they can bring great prosperity to those who follow them and that every one who does not comply or see things their way is merely an obstacle that must be removed, an enemy that must be dismantled." Sularen began, speaking in a cold and authoritarian tone that hinted at the disgust he had for the Diarchs.

"You ask those like me who distrust you what comfort has my dogma provided me, whether our strength protects us and whether our wealth or status keeps us untouchable but the same can be asked for you both. What comfort does your dogma provide you, knowing that billions more must die so that your Diarchy succeeds? What strength do you possess, that will protect you against the wrath of the nations of the galaxy that have already been forged in the fires of constant warfare for years, should they choose to turn their vast fleets and armies against you? Do you think that your status as Diarchs makes you untouchable by the hands of the enemy as you pursue your mission?"

"You act all high and mighty, judging and calling out those in attendance for their failures or more correctly, their inability to do what you demand of them, going as far as to threaten all the established powers in the galaxy that will even challenge your beliefs or have not adhered to them, which at worst will turn your so-called Diarchy of yours into a galactic pariah comparable to the Brotherhood of the Maw. So tell me, Diarchs what makes you think you are entitled to determine what is right and wrong in this galaxy and judge everyone along with every faction accordingly?" Sularen proclaimed.

It was a direct challenge to the Diarchs, one that Sularen knew they would respond too and was ready to utilize in order to further dismantle their ideology, their movement and their nation. Today the galaxy would see the Diarchy's true nature, as a nation led by false Sith trying to masquerade as both Imperials and the Alliance. Tomorrow, they would be snuffed out by the overwhelming might of the Empire, their feeble hold in the New Territories broken by the power of the Dark Empire and the Imperial loyalists scattered all over the region and there heresy put to an end once and for all.

Tags | Diarch Reign | Diarch Rellik | OPEN​

 

[Antipater]

"The willpower to care for your loved ones and the strength to destroy those who would threaten them...

"The Diarchy is not driven by the base hunger for conquest, nor the shallow vanity of domination. Our purpose is singular, unwavering: to forge order from the chaos that has long plagued this galaxy, a galaxy that has forgotten the very meaning of peace and security..."

Antipater weighed the value of these words carefully against the oxygen molecules that had been expended to create them... And the molecules won out. It was hardly even a fair contest.

They were displeased with the chaos. They were displeased with the limited worldviews of the broader galaxy. And their solution? More war. More chaos. All so that their limited worldview could be enforced rather than merely entertained. The droid moff listened to the rapturous applause.

Surely these people must have understood on an instinctual level... Oh, it didn't matter. He gave these meatsacks more credit than they deserved. They could not be honest with themselves.

And now the Imperial Warlord made his presence known, attempting to... Debate the twin Diarchs. Perhaps there was something to be said for dressing down these Sith in public. Antipater found himself far more preoccupied with the security ramifications. His scanners had already detected several guardsmen as hosts to anomalous parasites.

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: Bastion | Plaza of the Crucible
Tags: Marlon Sularen

---

Sularen
the Diarch thought. He shouldn’t be surprised the ever confident Warlord of the Dark Empire would make his opinion known. But to do it in the house of your enemy? How foolish.

Descending the steps he came face to face with the warlord.

“I wish I could say I was surprised Warlord. But of course you couldn’t refuse a chance to make your presence known. The only reason billions will die, as you say. Is because of men like you. Men who are so afraid to lose what semblance of power they hold that they set forth their weapons of war.”

He stepped even closer to the other man. Now only a hairs breadth apart.


“Right and wrong. It is not a hard thing to judge, you press forward, staking your claim on others for the satiation of your own ego. So frail a thing, that you would let countless worlds burn just to prove you matter.”
He glared at the warlord

“I do not think myself untouchable Marlon Sularen.. just that it will take a better man than you to do it.”

 

[Lyssara Thrynn]

Those who said that words could be as sharp as a blade were right. I've just witnessed what feels like a bombshell. I wasn't expecting such a peculiar speech, and I admit I'm not sure what to think of it yet. I can feel the crowd's reactions cheers and welcoming responses that embrace us. On the other hand, some are much more divided. I'm starting to get feedback from Nyva through her comlink, giving me contradictory reactions: people angry because they didn't expect this.

For a moment, a cold sweat runs down my back, making me shiver in the worst way. I quickly collect myself and amuse myself by making a little chart categorizing people into those in agreement, those in disagreement, and the neutral ones to start gauging public opinion about such a declaration.

Well, after all, I'm a scientist at heart, and with the data my assistant gathers, I can create a neat little table to keep for myself. If I ever become part of a ruling power and find myself as the one in charge, I'm not sure I'd deliver such a grand speech.

Everyone has their own governance style, their own goals to achieve. For me, I must rise above this; I have to aim even higher than these petty conflicts. What interests me is the summit of the world, the unreachable peak that no one dares to seize for fear of drawing all the wrath upon themselves.

This is the perfect opportunity to learn the art of governance and to build solid foundations in politics. Through this speech, I see an opportunity I must seize to grow and transcend myself. It reinforces my conviction to act with extreme determination and efficiency. It might seem counterproductive to some, but I don't think I'd establish as many protocols or regulations, despite my scientific background.

For me, freedom is driven by power, and it makes me want to show them that maybe, one day, I'll achieve my goals provided the power doesn't consume me first.

Now it's clear: I've entered the dangerous game of politics, where each of my moves and actions will have far more terrible consequences if I'm not careful about where I step. Many people are content with the little they have, but I always want more.

My objective is simple: I always want more power. My eyes darken for a brief moment as I lose myself in my thoughts. I focus again on the chart of reactions to the speech, which will provide me with valuable insights.

I also take the opportunity to empty my glass of alcohol. Now that they've delivered their speech, I can start celebrating. The seat at the summit I want to reach for the stars. No matter the ruin, no matter the consequences, no matter if I have to wreck and destroy my soul. I've made up my mind about what I truly want.

I take another alcohol drinks, i have this bad habit to drink it a lot of this. And after my memory fall in black out. That's doesn't surprise me. I like this so much. For the moment i stay here, in the council chamber to work on my scientist data.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Úlfs Reiði
ALLIES: Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Imperius | Diarch Reign | Diarch Rellik

A soft murmur rose from the crowd which gathered, and yet to the Wolf it was an almost deafening sound. His youth had been spent learning to adjust and shut out louder noises and confusion so he could focus on any one sound or voice if needed. His species could hear what others could not, and while it was a strength, at times it was a weakness. Gerwald had experienced it as both more than once.

Today it was a strength. He could overhear the dignitaries and their conversations. Any which spoke ill of the Sith Order, him, those he considered friends, would not find his ear deaf to it. Perhaps if the young Marr knew of the Wolf’s true abilities he would have attempted to recruit him as a spy long ago. Gerwald would have been good at it.

One voice, then another, stood out to him. A conversation, a greeting, something spoken that seemed familiar and casual.

Then came the voice closest to him.

The Dread Wolf turned to face the Sith which greeted him in some form of respect and curiosity. Gerwald inclined his head. To some he was nothing more than a brute, a dog, an enforcer which simply did the bidding of Empyrean himself. If only they knew the truth. Gerwald was happy that most did not.

“It is not a strange place for a Dark Councilor, however,” the Dread Wolf offered in correction. “I am here because this Diarchy seems to have come from nowhere, and I wish to assess whether they are a threat or not.”

His eyes evaluated the man next to him.

“I assume you are here for the same reason?”

The Diarchs assumed the stage, accompanied by a familiar face. The Dread Wolf smirked. It seemed the rumors were true then, they were indeed friendly with Korriban, or at least they were friendly with her king. For the moment, Gerwald had no reason to be concerned with such a discovery. The Sith did not dictate what friends their governors could make. As long as their governors remained loyal to the Order, and to the governing structures which had been set in place, it was not his concern.

His only concern was when the aspirations of such governors or entities threatened the Order.

Gerwald had visited Strosius and Malum early on in their ascendancy. He had taken a trip to Echnos. The Wolf had even sat down with Lady Raaf. If there was a threat to Eternalist rule, it would be dealt with.

It was time for the Diarch to speak, his brother as well. The Wolf weighed their speeches, finding them to be anything but peaceful. A threat and challenge had been laid for all to hear. This was not diplomacy, it was a warning.

His eyes looked for the young Marr, the other member of the Dark Council in attendance. Thoughts formed into words as his mind bid to speak to the son of the serpent.

<< “It seems they would see us burn,” >> his observation settled. << “I have been to Alavaria. Perhaps you will do me the honor of your company as my guest at the Obsidian Spire the next time you find yourself on Jutrand.” >>

A familiar military figure to the Wolf spoke up, decrying the speeches which had just been given. It was bold, and perhaps foolish. This was not the setting to spark such an open debate. It would only lead to hostility, and Gerwald had not come to shed blood.

He sighed.

“Tell me Imperius, what do you make of this?”

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah grabbed a fresh glass of whisky on the rocks as a waiter passed, planning on nursing it for a bit. Gave him a more casual look than someone who may appear eager to leave for the evening. He was here out of curiosity more than anything, to learn more. It seemed that learn they would. Judah raised an eyebrow at the speech - fall in line peacefully or be killed. Amusement touched his features at the contradiction, taking a sip of whisky before shaking his head.

More surprising that Sularen took offense to such an idea. Which was even more amusing to him. This was going to be an interesting night for himself - lots of posturing between groups. Apparently taking offense to who was evil and not bringing order to the galaxy and who was. Much of it was beyond him. A businessman, he was neutral when it came to many dealings. Sure he had thoughts and feelings, but he tried not to let that color what he was trying to do in life. What he was trying to achieve for the Dashiell family.

He leaned in close to Liin Terallo ,speaking close to her ear.

"Force wizards upset over who is evil and who is not. This could become a multi-day debate contest." He paused. "We can stay and listen or we can leave and get a cup of caf. My treat, naturally."